


Someday

by cresswells



Series: Lessons in Secret-Keeping [10]
Category: Bloodlines Series - Richelle Mead
Genre: F/M, Fluff without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresswells/pseuds/cresswells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sydney and Adrian discuss a far-off future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday

I’d been halfway through a very strange dream about Zoe tackling Hopper in the middle of Spencer’s coffee shop, while Brayden and Trey took bets on who would win – the straight-laced Alchemist girl or the squeaky dragon demon – when the dream suddenly faded and I slipped into a new state of awareness.  I didn’t open my eyes, but I knew instantly that I was still asleep, because a familiar pair of warm, strong arms were wrapped around me.

I smiled, breathing in the scent of fresh grass and muggy California heat and _him_.  A soft breeze lifted the hair at the nape of my neck, and I heard the faint sounds of birdsong and running water.  Without opening my eyes, I knew exactly where we were.

“It’s late,” I told him, wrapping my arms around his.  “You should be sleeping too.”

Adrian pressed a kiss to the nape of my neck.  “Why would I waste any time on my own dreams when I can share yours instead?”

“That’s not a healthy attitude to base a relationship on,” I countered, as I tilted my neck to the side, enjoying his slow, lazy kisses.

“You know what I mean.”

I did.  This was a thousand times better than the stupid dream my subconscious had given me.  I’d fantasised a lot about Adrian over the last few weeks (and if I was honest with myself, in the months before we began our relationship, too).  But my fantasies never compared to the real thing.  And even if we weren’t technically together at the moment, this _felt_ real.

I opened my eyes, taking in the view of the Getty Villa gardens.  Everything was as I remembered it: the warm breeze, the carefully cultivated greenery, the sound of waves crashing in the distance.  The sun was shining, but Adrian didn’t seem bothered by it at all.  We were sprawled on the ground under one of the arches leading into the museum galleries.  Everything was exactly as it had been on that day, the best day of my life.  All except for one detail – we were completely alone.

I turned in his arms, leaning in for a long kiss.  And just like that, everything fell into place.  I hadn’t seen him today – he’d had an extra class, so we’d been forced to cancel our usual afternoon plans.  I was happy that he was taking his classes seriously, but not seeing him – not being able to kiss him for over twenty-four hours – had made me miserable.  I’d pouted and behaved like a stroppy teenager all through dinner, much to Zoe’s bewilderment, and I’d gone to sleep early, selfishly hoping that I’d see him when I closed my eyes (the dangers of Spirit kept us from arranging regular dream dates).

Adrian returned my kiss enthusiastically, shifting so that we were chest-to-chest.  I straddled his legs and threaded my fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss.  I was rewarded with a throaty noise that made my heart leap.  I nipped at his lips with my teeth, because I knew that he loved it when I did that, and then I pulled away.

“I missed you,” I told him, leaning in to kiss him quickly again.  I just couldn’t help myself when he was so close.

“ _Mmm_.”  His green eyes glinted dangerously.  He brushed one long-fingered hand over my waist and down to my hips, settling on the inch of bare skin between my tank top and jeans.  “I missed you too.  I missed _this_.”  He leans in for another kiss, an open-mouthed kiss that gives me butterflies in my stomach and a strange tingling pins-and-needles feeling in my toes.  How had I managed to deny myself this feeling for so long?  Even going a few hours without kissing Adrian felt like torture to me now.

Adrian’s hands slipped further up my shirt and I drew back slightly.  “You’re not getting my shirt off so easily in a public place,” I teased.

“This isn’t public,” he countered.  “There’s only two people I ever let into my head – you and Jailbait.”

I grimaced at the reminder that Jill would probably see all of this later.  Just like that, the dizzy haze of lust clouding my mind seemed to shimmer and fade.  I settled onto his lap, trying to push Jill out of my thoughts.  Making out could wait for a while.  Right now, being this close to him was enough to make me content.

“How are you?” I asked him.  He looked okay (better than okay, he looked good enough to _eat_ ; his hair was messy, like he’d just woken up, and the light of the setting sun made his strong jaw and perfectly sculpted cheekbones look even more defined) but I knew that he’d been struggling with the workload his college had set, and the stress showed in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said, waving off my concerns.  “I mean, today sucked, but it’s better now.”  He kissed me on the forehead, achingly soft and sweet.  “Everything is better with you here.”

“You can’t stay long,” I warned him.  “I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said.  “Spirit won’t bother me tonight.  Like I said, it’s more manageable when I’m with you.”

I wrapped my hands around his neck again.  When he said things like that, I just wanted to bury myself in his arms and never leave them.  I’d never thought myself capable of feeling so strongly about anyone before.

“How’s Hopper?” I asked.

“He misses his mom,” Adrian said, absently trailing his fingers down my spine.  “I brought Oreos today and he ate his way through, like, half the pack before I realised he’d escaped from his tank.”  He shook his head.  “And then he wouldn’t shut up when I was trying to concentrate on my assignment, so I had to feed him _again_.”

I smiled fondly.  “You spoil him,” I accused.

“You do too,” he shot back.  “Who was it who smuggled him into Pies & Stuff last week?”

“I wanted pie,” I protested weakly.

“You hardly ate your slice.”  He grinned at me and suddenly we were laughing at the ridiculousness of the conversation.  I tucked my head into his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me.  “Our kids will be spoilt brats, won’t they?” he said easily.

I stiffened.

Kids.  I’d never thought that far ahead.  I hadn’t imagined that Adrian would be one to think that far ahead.  But here he was, slipping our hypothetical future children into the conversation like it was a completely mundane subject – possible, even _likely_ to happen someday.  My throat felt dry at the thought of that far-off possibility.

“Relax,” Adrian whispered in my ear.  His hands on my sides suddenly felt burning hot, although I wasn’t quite sure why.  “Having kids is years away. But can you imagine? Your brains, my charm. Our collective good looks… then add in the usual physical abilities dhampirs get. It’s really not even fair to everyone else.”

_Dhampirs_.

My brain was slowly catching up with his words.  If Adrian and I ever had a child, that little boy or girl wouldn’t be human.  My own child wouldn’t be _human_.  Why had I never considered this before?  I’d always assumed that one day I’d have kids – after marrying a nice, normal human man, likely another alchemist.  We’d settle somewhere near my parents and have 2.5 kids and a white picket fence.  That future had never been a fantasy, or something I longed for at all.  It had just been the future I assumed was required of me.  I’d never thought about it much – or thought to deviate from it.

I’d been silent for too long.  Adrian drew away from me and pressed a hand to the side of my face, cupping my cheek carefully.  “What’s going through that brain of yours?” he murmured.

“I – I’m not sure.”

“About what?  About kids?  Because like I said, that’s way off.  You don’t have to be sure.”

“Are you?”  I couldn’t imagine Adrian Ivashkov wanting children – at least, not the Adrian Ivashkov I’d first been introduced to.

“Well, yeah.”  He smiled embarrassedly.  “I mean, the thought of having kids scares the hell out of me, obviously.  I haven’t had great parental role models and I don’t want my kids to turn out the way I did –”

“You’ve turned out just fine,” I argued.

He snorted.  “Yeah, no thanks to my mom and dad.”  He ran a hand through his hair, ruining the perfectly-messy look he usually spent at least half an hour cultivating, and making it stick up oddly at the back in a way I found completely endearing.  “I have no idea how to be a good parent,” he said in that brutally honest way of his.  “I just feel like I maybe could be one.  I mean – I want to be one.  Eventually.  Someday.”  He smiled cautiously at me.  “And I think you’d be a brilliant mom someday, too.”

I shook my head.  “I don’t know about that.  I didn’t have the greatest upbringing, either.”

“Understatement of the century.”

“But...” I hesitated.  “I had my mom.  I like to think she raised me well.”

Adrian squeezed my sides.  “She raised you _perfectly_.”

Warmth spread through me again at his touch.  At his words.  At his cautious, hopeful expression.  It wasn’t difficult to picture Adrian as a father: Adrian holding a child in his arms; teaching a little boy how to paint; kicking a ball with a little girl; doting on his children as much as he doted on Hopper, or Jill, or _me_.  Adrian might not have had the perfect father, but he could be one.  He _would_ be one.

But if that child was mine, too...

“What are you thinking?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I trailed a hand down his arm, and squeezed his hand.  “I’m trying to imagine raising a dhampir child,” I admitted carefully.

Adrian sucked in a quick breath.  “I know that’s probably difficult for you to come to terms with.  Forget it.  Like I said, you don’t have to think about it –”

“I should though,” I argued.  “I mean, I want to be with you.  And if this is something you want...”

I tried to picture myself with those imaginary children.  Taking a dhampir child to dance recitals, or Disneyland, or dropping them off at St. Vladimirs, to stares and hushed whispers from angry parents...

_Not just any dhampir child_ , I reminded myself.  _Adrian’s child_.

Could I raise a dhampir?  I wasn’t sure.  The Moroi and dhampirs I knew no longer frightened me.  I’d never really considered forming my own opinions on the social structure of the Moroi world before, but from what I’d seen and experienced, I knew that the treatment of dhampirs was horribly unfair.  If Adrian and I were to have a child, he or she would be subject to that unfairness.  And worse, they’d be stigmatised, treated differently by other dhampirs for having a human mother.

But despite all that, my gut filled with longing as I considered Adrian’s earlier words: _Can you imagine?  Your brains, my charm, our collective good looks..._

Any child of Adrian’s would be beautiful.  The thought of carrying that child, of raising a child that was part of him and part of me... My heart thumped eagerly in my chest.  I imagined that child, _Adrian’s_ child growing inside of me, and felt a desperate wanting unlike anything I’d ever imagined I could possibly feel.

“Would you want a dhampir child?” I asked, my voice sounding strangely low and airless.

“I’d want any child with your eyes, or your nose, or your dimples,” he said automatically.  “Dhampir or not.”

“What about what people would say?”

Adrian stared at me.  “Are you serious?  If anybody has anything negative to say about a Moroi father actually sticking around to raise a dhampir child, screw them.”  He pulled me back to his chest, wrapping his hands around my waist.  “Do all these questions mean you’re thinking about it?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.  “I have no idea.  I just... it’s like you said – when I think about raising a child with your eyes, or your nose, or your dimples...”  He grinned.  A grin that made said dimples stand out prominently.  I couldn’t help but lean in to kiss one.  He turned slightly, and his lips met mine, and that halted our conversation for several minutes.

“So,” Adrian said, when we finally managed to prise ourselves apart long enough for conversation – we were horizontal now, side-by-side, and one of his hands rested dangerously on my thigh.  “What you’re saying, is... you want that too?  Someday?”

I looked around us, heart thumping wildly, wanting to preserve this feeling and this time and place in my memory always.  And even though this was all just a dream, I couldn’t help but feel we’d chosen the best possible setting for this conversation.  A place that, for me, would always remind me of the choices I’d made for Adrian.  For myself.  For both of us.

“Someday,” I agreed, tugging on his collar to bring his lips back to mine.


End file.
